Trophy
by galsbeingpals
Summary: Prompt/Summary from SWANFCKNGQUEEN on twitter: Swan Queen AU where Regina is a bored trophy wife and Emma is a tarty little teenager (legal) that gives her the time of her life - I aged Emma up a little to fit with my creation, but I'm hoping you'll find this as much fun as I do. M rated for obvious reasons, beginning in Chapter 2.
1. Chapter 1

Prompt/Summary from SWANFCKNGQUEEN on twitter: Swan Queen AU where Regina is a bored trophy wife and Emma is a tarty little teenager (legal) that gives her the time of her life - I aged Emma up a little to fit with my creation, but I'm hoping you'll find this as much fun as I do. Chapter 2 is already underway and should be posted later, Chapter 1 can be considered a kind of prologue.

TROPHY

Regina Mills was by no means a naive woman, but even she was blissfully unaware of the complex plan which took her from the trailer park where she had lived the first 22 years of her life, to a New York high society occasion with a photograph of the man she needed tucked securely in her knock off purse. No, the mastermind behind the most significant class breach on the East Coast since Sir Adam Cassidy married his maid, was Regina's mother, Cora, and she would take the extent of her efforts to her grave.

Regina was a good daughter, exceptionally bright, breathtakingly beautiful, and everything Cora needed to get out of the damn trailer park where she had lived since the death of her husband caused the extent of his debt to be revealed. She had been a little willful at times, when she was younger, but it had been nothing a few well placed slaps and other disciplinary measures couldn't fix, and finally, her three years of community college (studying Home Economics) were over and she was ready to fulfil her destiny.

The dress would be returned the following morning, the car was borrowed (and probably stolen before that), the hairstyle was done by their neighbour, the jewellery was glass and paste lifted from the community theater's costume department, the shoes were held together by superglue and permanent marker, and Regina, well, Regina felt like a motherfucking princess. This was the most important night of her life, and she didn't need a fairy godmother, because she had a real mother, who, yes, occasionally drank and smoked so much Regina wondered if she would explode, but who had set her up with the most elaborate, ambitious plan Regina could have imagined.

And it was so damn simple. She just had to go to a funeral.

The funeral of Eva White, and her daughter Snow. Regina remembered the research that had been drilled into her. Eva had been highly respected, a 65 year old upper class philanthropist. She had only ever had one child, a daughter, Snow, who had, it seemed, been spoiled rather beyond repair - when Snow was 18, she'd had an affair with some kind of agricultural worker, and become pregnant. She'd had no wish to raise the child, but a child there was, and the Whites did not abandon their kin, so Emma Swan (since she had been born out of wedlock and could not inherit the estate) was raised by her grandparents, and was by all accounts even more obnoxious than her mother had been.

The scandal was ancient history now - Emma Swan was 21 years old. Her mother had made it until the ripe old age of 39 before conking out. The official story was that it had been a tragic car accident, but everyone knew that Snow had a penchant for strong apple ciders, and the police report could not deny that the wild societal princess had been behind the wheel. Regina could not quite decide, even during the funeral, whether people had really loved Snow, or whether they had just loved her mother.

She looked around for the Swan girl, but she was nowhere to be seen. In a way, that made things rather easier. Regina did not like to dwell on the fact that her mark was approaching 70, and had a granddaughter not even a full year younger than her.

Leopold White, Leo to his friends, was not difficult to find. He was the centre of attention, as he always loved to be. As she had been taught, Regina ignored him. She approached the caskets (closed, of course) only after almost all the other guests had paid their respects, and remained on the edge of the group as they processed to another hall for refreshments. She found herself a glass of delicious and ludicrously expensive red wine, and sat at a table sipping it, making sure her assets were advantageously displayed, but otherwise completely ignoring the leader of the occasion.

It was this indifference which ensured that, after no more than ten minutes, Leopold approached her.

"My apologies, but I do not believe we have been introduced."

Regina schooled her accent carefully.

"Regina Mills. My condolences, Mr. White. I cannot imagine how you must be suffering."

"Thank you," he said, dabbing at an imaginary tear with a red silken handkerchief. "It is much appreciated." He sat down beside her. "Though, I must admit, I feel rather out of place here without my wife and daughter."

"Oh?"

"It seems that even one so wealthy as I can be lonely at the centre of a crowd of people. They all want to talk to me, to get their _statement_ , to hear about what will happen to my money, to swarm like vultures over my dear family, but none of them care what I am really like."

"What _are_ you really like?" Regina asked.

BREAK

It had been painfully easy. Six months later, they were married. During the engagement, Emma Swan had been little more than a muttering; since she would not inherit it, she seemed determined to spend as much of the family money as possible while she still had access to it. Everything seemed perfect, they spent a beautiful honeymoon in Paris, then Leopold made sure Regina was comfortably installed in the Westchester mansion, and returned to spend the working week in his city centre apartment.

Cora was long since taken care of - she had been set up in a gorgeous apartment in Beverly Hills, and spent her time socialising with ageing film stars. Finally, she had everything she had ever wanted. She could not have been more proud of her daughter, or herself.

As for Regina, the beautiful young brunette attempted to settle into her wifely duties. The first few weeks went perfectly. She shopped, she went to the spa, she went to the gym, she pretended to befriend her sickeningly wealthy neighbours, and she developed a liking for murder mystery novels. There was something about a psychopath ripping out hearts that made her senses tingle in all the right ways.

When Leopold was with her, she cooked and cleaned and pampered him. In return, he bought her presents. The diamond engagement ring had been the first, and it proudly adorned her finger 24 hours a day, aside from when she was bathing or washing dishes. The weekend after their honeymoon, he had brought her a car.

It was so perfect that Regina's squeal of delight was almost genuine. She found it hard not to hate Leopold. She knew the business king was well aware she only married him for his money, but he did not seem to care at all, as long as he had someone pretty to play house with and warm his bed at night. If she was entirely honest, Regina hated Leopold in the same way that she hated herself. They were both selfish and ruthless, and they both did whatever they had to to get what they wanted. The only difference Regina could see was that Leopold was far more certain of what he wanted than she was.

The car was a blood red convertible with a tan leather interior, and he'd even bought her a faux leopard fur steering wheel cover to go with it.

ONE YEAR LATER

Regina's life was perfect. She had _everything_ , and she loved it. She commanded the country club, ruling over the lesser wives like a queen, and all of the rest of the time, she was alone to do whatever she pleased. She rode horseback on her prizewinning black destrier, she read (she now had a veritable library of crime novels), she cooked elaborate banquets (she particularly relished boiling lobsters alive) and she was… Bored. Out. Of. Her. Mind.

Leopold was with her at weekends, and even though she despised him, she found herself looking forward to his company because giving him death glares behind his back gave her something to _do_.

It was a Friday night after a stressful week, and after Regina had completed her duty in soothing him, he rolled over on the red silk sheets (he had an odd fondness for the material) and caught her eye. Usually, afterwards, he collapsed like a comating lawnmower, only returning to the land of the living the next morning, so this apparent desire for pillow talk piqued Regina's interest.

"I must father another child," he stated. "At what point in our marriage can you foresee being amenable to this?"

"I do not wish it, yet," Regina said carefully. She knew Leopold had been expecting this, and he did not seem surprised.

"That seems eminently reasonable. Very well, we shall return to the matter in a year."

Regina wondered why he was agreeing so easily. A business tycoon never settled on the first offer, unless there was really something else on the table. And, being Leopold, he wasted no time in cutting to the chase.

"Emma will be coming home."

Regina paused. Not much surprised her, but she had not been expecting this.

"To visit?" she asked, trying not to let the hope seep into her tone. She had spoken to the elusive granddaughter once in the eighteen months she had been involved with the family. The conversation had lasted three sentences, and they had all been about money.

"To live," Leopold corrected. "I am cutting her off. While I care for her, and will not forget her or cease to support her basic needs, she is not a beneficiary of this estate, she does not carry my name, and she has spent enough time bringing shame upon this family at my expense. She is a grown woman, and she needs to learn how to fend for herself. I believe, my dear, that you will be an excellent example to her."

He flashed her a smile. Regina forced one in return.

"Thank you, dear, but I can hardly be a… a figure of guidance to her. We are the same age."

Leopold chuckled. Regina had a feeling he was rather pleased with himself about this. She resisted the temptation to suffocate the smile off his face. He ignored her protest, and informed her that Emma's flight would arrive on Monday morning.

"I will be working in the city, so by my return on Friday evening, you two should be quite happily acquainted. I will email you the list of rules she is to abide by; you may show them to her, and I would appreciate it if you would encourage her obedience."

Regina closed her eyes and let out a sigh, trying to make it sound like breathing. What the hell was she supposed to do with a 22 year old delinquent?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hello again! Sorry about the title typo - fixed now. Whoops. Enjoy - lots of SQ fun. M rating in full force. Thank you so much for all the feedback you've given already, you're all incredible. Since this is a monstrously large chapter, and the second in one day, maybe I can have even more? *puppy eyes*

TW for humorous (over)use of drugs and alcohol.

BREAK

Regina stood over the oven, pristine white apron covering her tight red dress and ample cleavage as she cooked her husband his Monday morning fry up and wondered how long heart disease could take to kill a person. She added another scoop of butter to the eggs and wished they'd hurry up. None of her musings about the deaths of those around her were particularly serious. It was just something she did to pass the time. They were far from exclusive to her husband; in fact, at one point or another, Regina had imagined the demise of not only everyone she had ever met, but also those she hadn't, like the irritating morning news presenter who thought being appallingly sexist was in some way amusing.

Leopold sat at the table, reading the paper and drinking the coffee she had set out for him. When his breakfast was ready, she arranged it on his plate just as he liked it and brought it to him at the table, fixed his tie for him, then let him rant to her about the news. She'd noticed very early on that he had rather mild politics, as long as he was free to keep all his money, and he just liked to rave about things. She supposed it made him feel masculine. She listened, but she only began to pay attention when the subject turned to Emma.

"She should be here at around midday. Give her some time to wash up, then take her to lunch at the club, then perhaps to the spa? I don't want her to feel neglected."

Regina nodded her assent.

"Did you read through the rules?"

Regina tried not to roll her eyes. She had, and she had no idea what she would do if such regulations were inflicted upon her, but she was certain it would not be pretty.

"I have."

"Then you will be aware that on no account is she to consume any alcohol or narcotics. She must not smoke cigarettes, she must not take those little pills her mother was so fond of. And she must not make a fool of herself at the club."

Regina bit back her questions. It wasn't that she was worried about Leopold's response - if she asked whether it would be wise to take Emma to the club right away, to test her so immediately, he would agree to them doing something else. But there was no point. Regina had to pick her requests carefully. While Leopold would give her everything, she had known from the start that everything was not as infinite as one might think. Everything had to be designed and considered. Regina knew she would only get what she wanted, and get away with what she wanted, if she let Leopold feel entirely in control.

"Of course. No drinking, no drugs."

"She is… She is a wilful child."

"She is no longer a child, dear. She is twenty-two."

Leopold chuckled wryly, though there was something about it Regina didn't like. "Oh, Regina, I assure you, Emma _is_ a child."

Regina forced a laugh, watched him finish his breakfast, saw him out, washed the dishes, divested herself of the apron, and went about her morning routine.

After her workout, she decided to forego reading for an investigation of the family photograph albums. She was free to peruse them whenever she wanted, but she had never looked before beyond ensuring she was far more beautiful than her husband's first wife, even comparing them at the same age.

Now, though, she wanted to see Emma. Something about the way Leopold spoke of her suggested a decided lack of interest in his granddaughter. Sure enough, while there were pictures of Emma, there were none of her with Leopold. She was usually alone, doing something, like climbing a tree or throwing stones off the end of a pier. In the few family pictures, Emma always stood off to the side, looking young and thin and awkward. Snow and Eva had raven black hair, and Leopold was also dark. Emma, by contrast, was blonde and angular.

The girl was also angry. She disappeared completely aged around thirteen, not even appearing in the group photos. Regina wondered why. There had been a few school photographs of her, the posh private kind. Perhaps she had been sent to board somewhere. Regina thought she might have quite liked boarding school. She had certainly hated the public school she attended from the trailer park.

Regina put the albums away and made sure there was nothing to clean. They had a maid, but Regina did not want her in the house every day, so she only came on Wednesday morning, which was when the Country Wives that Regina ruled over met, so Regina was always out of the house. On other days, Regina did not much mind cleaning, so long as nobody saw her do it. It passed the time - one could only spend so many hours of one's life shopping.

On her way out of the study, Regina smiled fondly at her wedding photograph, which was displayed prominently above the fireplace. The papers had described her as breathtaking. Her dress had cost 1.6 million dollars, had broken world records, and was now on display in a fashion museum in Paris. Tiny diamonds had been woven into the bodice in intricate patterns… Regina had over a hundred pictures of herself in that dress stored on her computer. She looked at them on the rare occasions when she felt lonely, but not murderous.

She made sure both liquor cabinets were locked, and did the same for the door to the wine cellar. One of the everythings she had made sure to be given was access to the entirety of the house. She had a key to every room, even Leopold's private office. Anything he wanted to keep away from her had to be in his safe deposit box (since she spent time in the apartment too, she considered it part of her territory). Leopold seemed quite entertained by demands like these. He liked that she was smart. He sometimes asked her questions about business deals, emailing her reports and asking for her input. At first, he had only done this long after decisions had been made, but now, though he would never admit it, she knew he valued her opinion on current deals.

He never explicitly told her she was useful to his work, so she did not feel guilty for investing a portion of her (substantial) allowance each month, and channeling the profits into an offshore account for what her mother liked to call "rainy days". Regina knew her husband checked on her expenditure, but she had tied her first investment in very neatly with beginning her riding lessons, and had told Leopold she had needed to become a partner at the stables to ensure the best service. When she had some of her own money, she had actually become a partner, and Leopold was either none the wiser, or so impressed with her handling of finances that he let her dishonesty slide. It had only been a white lie. Leopold, when he was feeling jovial, liked to tell people proudly that all his lies were white lies. He thought it was hilarious.

Regina checked the time. She still had an hour before the arrival of the infamous Emma Swan. She decided to go for a swim. She was very fond of the pool, it was large, temperature controlled, and in a room walled with windows to a stunning park view. Regina had an impressive collection of bikinis, and she enjoyed modelling them. Even when her husband was watching.

She showered and changed after her swim, putting on a different dress just because she could. She couldn't be trashy at the country club, but she took great pleasure in pushing the boundaries a little further every time she visited. Leopold didn't mind because it turned him on. Sometimes Regina was glad her husband was such a simple beast. She chose a tiny black skirt with a sheer leopard print blouse tucked into it, black boots, and heavy gold accessories. She put on her ray bans, wearing them inside just because she could. Regina knew full well she was a trophy wife, and she'd be damned if she didn't get to enjoy the role sometimes.

She was just putting the finishing touches to her bright red nail polish, smirking at the reaction she was sure to produce from even the most disloyal granddaughter, when she heard the obnoxious sound of the doorbell. The doorbell had to ring because Leopold had decreed that Emma was not to have a key "until she earned it", whatever that was supposed to mean. Regina wanted nothing to do with the rules or their reasoning; she did not want to be at all guilty of creating the restrictions she was supposed to enforce.

She opened the door, knowing her skirt was hitched up so far from sitting down that her red lace underwear was painfully close to visible, blew on her nails, then looked down so she could peer at Emma over her glasses. She grinned. She had been a little worried, expecting a spoilt brat. But Emma was no brat. She was… Regina searched for the word. Punk? No. Stripper. She looked like a stripper. Her outfit outdid even Regina's most racy ensemble, and for that, Regina had to give her credit. It seemed they had both been aiming for a similar impression. She could see Emma investigating the see through nature of her blouse.

Emma wore the tiniest denim shorts in the history of clothing, a black sports bra, and a red plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off. It was also open, displaying her tanned, toned stomach. Her wild blonde hair blew loose around her shoulders and she, too, wore large sunglasses. On her feet she wore scruffy black Chuck Taylors, and beside her was a huge black suitcase. The driver from the car service sent to collect her was carrying another two.

"Emma," she said, holding out her hand. Regina took it, examined it as if it were an intriguing offer, nodded, then stepped aside so the woman could enter.

"You're even younger than I thought," Emma said, pulling her suitcase inside, leaving scratch marks on the polished wood floor and dragging the welcome carpet (it was much bigger than a mat) halfway across the large entrance hall.

Deciding that was enough work for the moment, she let go of it and it fell over forwards. She seemed to be waiting for a reaction from Regina (horror, perhaps) but it was not Regina's house, and her money would not pay to fix it. When Emma realised her current tactics weren't provocative enough, she changed tack. She bounced into Regina's personal space.

"So, whaddaya think?" she asked, pushing her sunglasses off her face. Regina paused, leaning around Emma to tip the waiting driver, who had now made it inside with the remaining suitcases, then leaned back and took off her own glasses. She looked Emma up and down; their proximity meant she got quite an eyeful when she passed Emma's chest. She wasn't complaining. She smiled appreciatively, then moved back up to Emma's eyes. The energy between them was electric, though they both pretended not to notice it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said simply, smiling her 100 watt smile.

Emma cocked her head to one side. She was a bit disappointed on having to use her trump card so early on, but she was running low on options. Regina didn't seem to be easily intimidated.

"Back atcha, Grandma."

Regina continued to smile, but her expression became almost feral.

"Call me that again," she said through gritted teeth, "and I will tie you down and tear out your fingernails."

Emma stepped back, a little surprised. She held her hands up in mock surrender.

"Woah, there, calm your tits, lady."

Regina rolled her eyes (she did not roll them at Leopold because she knew he liked her to pretend she respected him, but Emma deserved no such consideration) and returned the carpet to where it was supposed to be.

"That is the first and last time I pick up after you, Emma. Now, Leopold has suggested that we have lunch at the club, so why don't you take your suitcases to your room, clean yourself up, and meet me downstairs in an hour ready to go?"

She said it as a question, but they both knew she wasn't really asking. Emma kicked her fallen suitcase.

"No thanks," she said.

"Suit yourself," Regina said sweetly, disappearing to the study to find her book.

"What _should_ I call you?" Emma asked. "Nonna? Grams? Granny?"

Regina turned, considering biting the girl's head off. Literally. "How about Regina?"

Emma grinned. "Okay. Regiiina." She played with the word, but Regina quite liked the sound of it in her mouth.

"Attend to your suitcases, dear."

Emma made a face. "You can't boss me around. We're the same age."

"Age is just a number. If you could look after yourself without being told how, you wouldn't be here at all."

"You _would_ say it's just a number. Is your husband three times your age, or four?"

Regina chuckled. "If you think the way to get to me is by insulting my marriage, you're barking up entirely the wrong tree, dear."

"Why do you dress trashy but talk smart?"

Regina chuckled again. She liked Emma. Emma noticed things. And called her smart. "I hate pastel colours, and I like being a trophy wife."

"Why?"

"They're dull, they make people look washed out."

Emma rolled her eyes this time. "You know I meant the other one." Emma, though previously determined to get under the woman's skin, had forgotten herself for the time being. Regina was interesting. And insanely attractive. And not, if Emma's gaydar was functioning correctly, at all heterosexual.

Regina indulged the question. Mostly because Emma was pretty. Very, very pretty. And totally eyeing her up.

"I had nothing, before. Now I have everything, and if I don't have it, I can buy it. I enjoy that I have risen from the bottom of the heap to the Queen of the vile Country Club. More than anything I like to see them squirm, and nothing riles them more than me demonstrating whenever they see me that not only am I their ruler, I am what they consider 'trailer trash'."

"So, basically, you like to rub it in the bitches' faces that all their classist bullshit is utter bullshit."

"Eloquently put, dear."

Emma grinned. "I like to do that too."

"By dressing like a hooker?"

Emma looked pointedly at Regina's skirt. Regina held her chin up.

"At least it doesn't show my underwear."

Emma twirled around, sticking out her ass. Regina appreciated the view. A lot.

"Do you see any underwear?" Emma demanded.

Regina laughed. "No, but that's only because you aren't wearing any, dear."

"Why do you call people dear? Oh, wait. I bet it royally pisses them off at the club."

"Nail on the head. Now, suitcases."

Emma groaned. "And I thought we were getting along. Will you at least help me? I can take two at once, but not three."

"I doubt you can even manage two."

Emma showed off her impressive biceps, then winked. "I'll make you a deal. If I can get two upstairs in one go, you have to bring the third."

"Two in one go, and not a single scratch in the house?"

"No _new_ scratches," Emma said, almost caught out.

Regina shook her head. "Fine. Deal."

Emma grinned, then scooted off to get the suitcases. To Regina's amusement, she managed just fine, carrying them upstairs without a hitch. Regina didn't mind taking the third; she was strong, it wasn't too bad, and she quite enjoyed the way Emma watched her. The blonde admired her, sure, but somehow managed to admire her as an equal, rather than an object.

"So, you can wash up now."

"I'm not dirty." Emma exposed her armpit for Regina to sniff. Regina did so, mostly for an excuse to step into Emma's personal space again.

"So you're not," she breathed. It was as if there was a magnetic pull between them, something uncontrollably delightful, new and fresh and salacious. Regina knew Emma was turning it on, but she had a feeling she was doing the same thing. Emma's racing heart and unsteady breathing, though, were not part of the show.

"Careful, dear," Regina murmured into Emma's neck. "That would be a bit incestuous, wouldn't it?"

Emma held in a moan. With Regina in heels, they were around the same height, and they were so, so close… Emma got a hold of herself.

"Neither of us are truly part of this family," Emma said, her green eyes boring into Regina's caramel ones.

Regina felt the energy ripple between them, neither moving closer nor moving away. Emma was slightly younger, but any immaturity in her behaviour was fake, put on to fulfil her grandfather's expectations, Regina expected. She had seen through it immediately. Now, she was almost desperate to know what was underneath. Even though Emma's clothes left so little to the imagination.

Regina sighed. Though it was a legal obligation rather than a moral one, she took her marriage very seriously. Then again, Leopold had told her to look after Emma, to keep her entertained… Perhaps Emma required very _intense_ looking after.

"Would you like to change?" she asked, still not moving away.

"Would you like to watch?" Emma replied without missing a beat.

Regina did move, then, because it had been either leave the room or kiss the woman.

"Your loss," Emma called through the closing door. Regina was well aware.

She found her jacket, purse, and keys, then wandered through the house to pass the time until Emma was ready. She did not like to be still.

Emma pranced downstairs wearing the same as before, but with skinny jeans instead of the shorts. She had also done up one button of the shirt, and put on an I heart NY baseball cap.

"You look enchanting, dear," Regina said sarcastically.

"Aw, shucks," Emma said, grinning. Regina shook her head a little and led the way to her car.

"Hey, this is nice. Gramps never bought me a car."

"Yes, well, you don't suck him off, do you?"

Emma made barf noises. "You're gross, you know that?"

"Everybody prostitutes themselves in some way or another. My terms are far simpler, and my compensation far sweeter, than most."

"When you put it like that, you sound almost respectable," Emma teased.

"I have never sought the respect of others. I can destroy them, now."

"You're kind of creepy, you know that? Like, you don't mean destroy reputations, you mean destroy like rip them to pieces and HOLY SHIT THAT'S FAST REGINA!"

Emma lost her train of thought as she became preoccupied clinging on to the car for dear life. She struggled to put on her seatbelt as Regina laughed and continued to break the speed limit, sailing happily past a cop car.

"Hey, why isn't he chasing you? You're doing over 100!"

"They know my car. Leopold fixed it all up for me."

"And here I've had to pay every speeding ticket…"

"Again, you don't-"

"Right, yeah, please don't say that again. You're so hot, it just makes everything horrible."

"Hot, huh?"

Emma grinned, finding it surprisingly easy to banish all thoughts of her grandfather. "Smoking," she confirmed.

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

"Not so bad?" Emma pretended to be hurt.

"Emma Swan, you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes upon," Regina said, strongly exaggerating her tone.

Emma smiled happy. "That's better. So, how's the food here? I never went as a kid."

"Expensive and pretentious."

"Great," Emma said sarcastically. "Why are we going, again?"

"Leopold-"

"Said so, right. Do you do everything he says?"

Regina looked sideways at Emma, wondering if the blonde could be trusted. She decided that she couldn't, but also that Emma had no interest in ratting her out to Leopold, and for some reason… Regina couldn't quite explain it, but she needed Emma's respect. Okay, actually she could explain it. There was a throbbing between her legs that had been there since Emma arrived, and while the whole thing was like a bad porno, she _needed_ her. And Emma was clearly interested too.

It made sense, Regina reasoned. They were young, beautiful women, both bored, both restricted in some way, both used to luxury but not to company, and both clicking with someone they desired. All their conversation had consisted of flirtatious banter. And they both needed to rebel. Regina was being forced to babysit a woman of her own age. Emma was being forced to live with a "family" that had never taken an interest in her, and only did so now because she was a social inconvenience.

Regina hated that she had been given Emma to look after, she hated being responsible, and right now, she hated that they were both doing as Leopold had ordered. For the first time since her marriage, Regina felt cheap, and it wasn't to do with what Emma had said. It was to do with what Emm made her feel.

Regina saw sex as a tool. It had never been anything more than that to her. She'd had her fair share of experience before meeting Leopold, but it had never been…

Fire. That's what Emma saw in Regina. Fire. Her mother had been cold, her grandmother even more so, and her grandfather the coldest of all. School had been cold, cold and heartless, and even afterwards… In Emma's opinion, money was mostly cold, too. It got you places, it bought you things, but they were never enough, they just made you want more. No matter what you did, you were still uncomfortable, still just a little bit chilly, still looking for that something to make you warm inside. Emma had never been warm.

And Regina wasn't just warm, she was explosively hot. Emma was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, she knew it, and she loved it. They were the same age, they were beautiful, they were smart… They were a chemical reaction begging to happen and Emma liked to blow things up even when they were far from asking for it. The blonde shifted in her seat and watched Regina drive, wondering if it would be inappropriate to kiss her.

Emma forced herself to stay calm, walking casually from the parking lot, keeping her distance from Regina like a good reluctant step-granddaughter. Regina noticed the distance, and wondered if the cause was what she suspected.

Smooth classical music greeted them in the marble entryway, and the host gave Regina his best fake smile, recognising her immediately. She replied in kind, and he took them through to the restaurant, showing them to the best table.

"Well, isn't this LOVELY?" Emma said, as loudly as possible. Regina just laughed. She had never been made a scene in the club other than her clothes, and that was always relatively subtle, but Emma… Emma made her want to. She couldn't join in, Leopold would hear about, but, she defended, she couldn't be expected to control Emma, could she? There was little more she could do than watch, and secretly enjoy the attention.

"It's like a fucking palace. Look, Regina, they've got chandeliers!"

"There is a chandelier in your dining room, too, dear."

"Is there REALLY? I'd never noticed."

"What can I get you two ladies to drink?" a rather panicked waiter asked them.

"I'll have a beer, she'll have red wine, and we'll both have two shots of tequila."

Regina held up her hand to the waiter, fished in her purse for a fifty, and handed it to him.

"Be a doll and put it on the tab as soda water?"

He laughed nervously and took the money. "Was that, two shots between you, or two shots each?"

"Each!" Emma cried. "You can never just have ONE shot of tequila. Don't you agree, Regina?"

The waiter scurried away and Regina laughed loudly. "Wholeheartedly."

Regina could hold her drink, but it had been months since she'd been truly wasted. Emma produced two cigarettes from her bra and offered one to Regina. It was warm. Then she lifted the candle from the middle of the table and used it to light hers. Regina examined the cigarette in her hand. She hadn't smoked since before Operation Leopold, but God she was craving it now… She threw caution to the wind, lit her cigarette in the same way Emma had. The only thing they really had to worry about in terms of Leopold was the financial trail.

The waiter returned with the drinks.

"You can't sm-"

Regina was already handing him another 50.

"I'll go turn off the detector."

Emma raised her eyebrows.

"He would've done it for 10."

"He's saving up for college," Regina said, smiling after the waiter. She had a soft spot for him. He wasn't snooty like some of the others. She didn't tip the snooty ones at all.

Emma passed round the shots, winked at Regina, and downed her first. Not to be outdone, Regina did both of hers in quick succession, then sipped her wine by way of a chaser. Emma raised her eyebrows, impressed, then finished her second shot and took a swig of beer. They took a synchronised puff on their cigarettes, then Emma swung her feet up to rest them on the table.

Regina could see people watching them; she could even hear the gasps and mutterings. And she loved it. Because, just as Emma said, this was rubbing their bullshit in their faces. All being here meant was money, and all money meant was paper or numbers on a screen.

"I love the way your eyes look when you smile," Emma said, puffing smoke up above her and leaning back in her chair. Regina smiled again, even more widely. They were the same age, but it had been so long since she had _felt_ young. Maybe she'd never really felt young. Not if this was what feeling young felt like.

It wasn't what Emma had planned. She'd planned to drive Regina crazy, she'd planned to turn the house upside down… Maybe she was doing those things, but definitely not how she'd intended. And there was nothing in the plan about the fluttering in her heart, the heat between her thighs, and the way her breath caught in her throat when she looked at Regina looking at her like that.

Because Regina looked at her like she was… Like she was _something_. She knew she was hot, but Regina made her feel interesting. Right from the first moment, when Regina had taken her hand, Regina had paid attention, and not been scared off by the loudness or the crudeness. Regina was real, she wasn't some rich airhead, or even some beautiful airhead. Oh, she was beautiful. She was perfection. But she was wry and smart and witty, she knew how to drive and she knew how to play.

Emma ached to touch her, ached to kiss those full, smiling lips, ached to somehow swallow that laughter, that passion in her eyes which had now appeared.

The waiter returned to take their food orders. Emma wanted a cheeseburger and fries; Regina ordered hot wings. They also demanded more tequila. Since he was selling it under the table anyway, Regina enticed him, after a short conference with Emma, to simply bring them the whole bottle. He became more relaxed, and richer, each time he visited their table.

Regina knew why she was drinking. She had a policy of always being honest with herself (so as to better maintain being entirely dishonest with almost everybody else). She was drinking because when the tequila was finished, when the food was consumed, and when she summoned the courage, she was going to go to the ladies room, and she expected Emma to follow her.

Emma knew what was coming, too. She'd known when Regina took the cigarette. The connection was too strong, and hell, maybe it was a mistake, but Regina had the look of a woman much in need of making one. Emma made mistakes all the time, and was more than happy to show her how it was done.

Regina sashayed to the bathroom, drunk, but not so inebriated that she wasn't in control. She and Emma had been having a delightfully raucous conversation, so delightful in fact, that Emma didn't bother waiting to follow, she just scooted up to Regina, swung an arm around her waist, and continued enthusing about the benefits of constant insobriety.

They stumbled into the ladies room. The attendant greeted them, holding towels. Emma turned to Regina.

"Give me fifty bucks."

"I'm not supposed to give you money," Regina giggled. "It's in the rules."

Emma rolled her eyes. Regina slapped the money into her waiting hand. Emma approached the attendant and snapped the fifty at her. Then she held it out.

"In the nicest way possible, please fuck off," she said cheerfully. The woman grinned, took the money, and skedaddled. Emma locked the door behind her.

"I hate money, but it comes in bloody handy sometimes," she said. Regina laughed, then backed up against the counter, leaned against it, and batted her eyelashes.

"Get over here," she said.

"What did I say about not bossing me about?" Emma purred.

"Get over here… Please?"

Emma giggled. "So _cute_." She approached Regina, swaying her hips, stepping out of her shoes and unbuttoning the one fastened button.

Regina ran her hand up Emma's toned abdomen and stomach, feeling the muscles tense at her touch. Emma responded by stroking Regina's cheek.

"Would it be agreeable, Your Majesty, Queen of the Country Club, if I were to kiss you now?" she asked. Regina smiled, the smile that made Emma's heart leap, and then she nodded and Emma's mouth crashed into hers and everything exploded.

There was no waiting, they were too drunk for that, their mouths started at open and quickly progressed to devouring, tongues and lips and teeth battling wildly as hands grabbed whatever they could reach. Emma hoisted Regina onto the counter; Regina parted her thighs and wrapped her legs around the lithe blonde. Emma rolled her hips; Regina gasped. She hadn't known it was possible for another person to get her going so quickly (or like this, at all). Emma was making her feel young in yet another way.

They continued to kiss, sloppy and spicy from the tequila and hot sauce, with a dirty edge from their cigarettes. Emma thought it was like kissing the night, being flooded with powerful, breathtaking, gorgeous darkness, that filled you up and lured you in and made you never want to see the light.

And she was warm, so warm, and Regina's skilled fingers were like red hot flames, licking up her body. Fingernails scraped her back, delicious burns, and she kissed harder, pressing their bodies closer, her hands finding Regina's ass to pull her up, pull her closer. Regina kissed for all she was worth, relishing how active she could be, how active she wanted to be. She moved to kiss Emma's neck, her pulse point, her collarbone, and Emma growled as the fire destroyed her, eating up the cold, eating up the emptiness, eating up the misery.

As Regina worked on giving her the (grand)mother of all hickeys, Emma busied herself unfastening the brunette's shirt, pulling it out of her skirt and popping the buttons until it could fall away. Emma dropped her own shirt too, then leaned back to yank off her sports bra in one fluid movement. Regina admired the view for a moment, then pulled Emma back towards her, intent on getting the blonde's delectable looking breasts into her mouth. She explored with her tongue and massaged with her hands, while Emma leaned around unfastened the only remaining bra.

Emma used Regina's change of position when she took her bra off to encourage the brunette to lean back on the counter; Emma kissed her mouth again, then lower, her neck, but just gently, knowing she couldn't mark it. She moved lower, reciprocating Regina's work on her breasts, then reached under Regina's skirt, pushing it up as she pulled pantyhose and panties down. She quickly unzipped the boots so she could get everything out of the way, then kissed her way up Regina's leg, eliciting little moans and gasps all the while.

"Is here okay?" she breathed into the soft skin of Regina's inner thigh. Regina was struggling with coherent conversation at this point, but she managed something akin to a "Yes" and Emma wasted no time sucking the sensitive flesh into her mouth, almost grazing it with her teeth before soothing it with her tongue.

"FUCK, EMMA," Regina cried out. Emma logged the spot, hoping she'd have the opportunity to take advantage of the knowledge. She could smell Regina's wet arousal, and both women were more than ready for her to taste it.

Regina tipped her head back and screamed again as she felt Emma's tongue slide between her folds. She was soaring, Emma's hands were still all over her but she was so free, she wasn't held down, her body was so alive, alight, on fire with sensation. Another sweep of Emma's tongue and she thought she might die, might explode, might fall off the edge of the knife she was balancing on, but Emma carefully guided her along the blade, higher and higher, hotter and hotter, until the muscles of her abdomen felt as if all the tension in her body had been wound up there, into one furious ball of energy.

Emma relished the taste. It mingled with tequila, with spice (that might be interesting for Regina later), with the cloying dusk of smoke and the pull of the darkness between them. Emma explored every detail, touching every nerve save the bundle where Regina wanted her most. She left a hand on Regina's hip bone to steady her and used two fingers of the other to circle Regina's entrance, pushing them inside as Regina thrust to meet them. She pumped them slowly in and out, curling with each movement to bring Regina yet another level of pleasure.

She could feel Regina's muscles tightening; Emma approached her clit, kissing it softly, almost reverently, before taking it into her mouth and sucking as Regina shattered around her with a guttural, animalistic moan. Emma slowed her fingers, allowing Regina to ride out the high, slowly floating back to earth.

The ball of tension blew up and released into the room. Regina saw stars, popping white in her eyes, and then it was as if everything stressed, everything wound up inside her, ebbed away as Emma guided her down. Maybe it was the tequila, she thought weakly as she half-lay on the counter, wondering whether she would ever be able to get up again, and if she ever even wanted to.

Emma stood, bouncing a little to get some feeling back into her knees, then, when she was sure Regina was watching, licked her fingers clean. Regina really was delicious. When none of her essence remained, Emma leaned down and kissed her so she could get a taste too. Regina's little gasp, followed by a hum of pleasure, suggested she'd never tasted it before. Emma grinned.

"Your turn," Regina said sleepily.

"You can owe me one," Emma said, chuckling. "I think you really needed that. Hey, does this mean I get to drive your car home?"

"No one's driving. Cab. Waiter'll bring it," Regina slurred.

"The waiter will bring the cab?"

"No, the _car_. Shuddup. Yaknowwhadimean."

Emma smiled, helping Regina sit up and giving her a kind of hug.

"I do. Hey, Regina?"

Regina blinked a couple of times, trying to improve her focus on the world.

"Yes?" she said, through one eye.

"Did you ever, uhm, I mean, did anyone ever…" Emma trailed off, embarrassed now she was actually asking it. Regina chuckled.

"No," Regina admitted. "Certainly not with-"

"Don't even. Seriously."

Regina cackled. "You're such an easy mark."

"You're just disgusting."

They picked up their clothes, giggling as they put them on. Regina examined her reflection.

"I look…"

"Like you've had the first really good fuck of your life? You're welcome," Emma teased. She put her arm around Regina.

"You… you deserve to feel like that, you know. You deserve to be warm."

Emma hadn't explained her feelings about cold to Regina, but Regina still seemed to understand, if not agree with the sentiment.

"I chose my life," she said slowly, still looking at her reflection. Emma moved in between her and the mirror, and kissed her softly on the lips.

"And I'm not faulting your choice. Not really. Doesn't mean I don't want…" she trailed off again, but Regina got it, and this time, she grinned.

"I do believe, Miss Swan, that you are an idealist."

Emma laughed loudly. "So what if I am?"

"So nothing. It's… Very refreshing."

"Because billionaires are all sharks and cynics?"

"Exactly."

"Come on. Let's go home to our hypocritical mansion."

"Wait," Regina said.

Emma looked at Regina; her eyes were wide and adorable.

"What?"

Regina took Emma's hand and pulled her back for one last kiss, slow and gentle.

"Thank you," Regina whispered.

"Hey, you can't thank me for-"

"No, not for _that_ ," Regina chuckled. "For… For reminding me I'm like you."

Emma smiled, kissed her again, then winked. "You're nothing like as awesome as me," she said. She tugged them out of the bathroom and towards their favourite waiter, who promised to deal with the car, called them a cab, and accepted a final excessive tip.

He watched them leave with a huge smile on his face. He was pretty sure no one else in the club even suspected what had happened in that bathroom. The advantage of being surrounded by homophobes was that they were often completely blinded by their own prejudice.


End file.
